


Ebb and Flow

by shireness



Series: 5B Divergence [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 22:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20317288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shireness/pseuds/shireness
Summary: There's nothing like the motion of the waves - especially when dealing with a baby who just won't go to sleep. Being married to a pirate with his own ship certainly has its perks.A fluffy and domestic sequel to "If I Could See Your Face Once More".





	Ebb and Flow

**Author's Note:**

> And I'm back, with more adorableness! The original angst-fest really took a turn, didn't it?
> 
> Rated G for straight fluff. Thanks to @snidgetsafan for her beta skills.
> 
> Enjoy!

Emma vaguely remembers discussions before she and Killian decided to have another baby, where they’d decided they really were doing great with the whole parenting thing. Their daughter was doing great - better than great, really, she was just the best kid - and they’d even been handling teenage hormones and attitude with Henry well . Obviously, they knew everything and were totally prepared.

Wrong. Completely, horrifyingly, hilariously wrong. 

It really brings into clarity the fact that Charlie was an easy baby, predisposed to tranquility and agreeability. Not that Emma and Killian love their younger daughter any less for it; it’s just that Daisy Margaret is a different experience altogether. It’s just that Charlie and her are different in every conceivable way, from Daisy’s little tufts of blonde hair to her insistence on everyone hearing her at all times. They’ve recently entered a babbling phase (which is, of course, adorable, if rather noisy), but their little girl has never been shy about crying or shrieking or whatever else to draw their attention and express her needs. Charlie had been an observer; Daisy is all action, and what she wants, she wants  _ now _ .

Now that the baby is five months old, Emma is just starting to go back to work a few days a week. Both Killian and David have been picking up whatever extra shifts her deputies can’t cover for the past couple months, with Robin as extra-extra back up as needed, but it helps everyone - especially Emma and her sanity - to have her start slowly coming back into the rotation. Killian is more than happy to stay home with the girls on the days she’s working, anyways. Back when they had Charlie, David had been able to handle a good chunk of the babysitting; however, he and Snow now have three children under five, including 21 month old twins, and their hands are more than full enough. Emma’s not quite ready to leave her kids in daycare yet, so for the moment, she and Killian are alternating shifts in a complex balancing act between the station and home, with Smee authorized to handle everything down at the docks for the moment. It’s not perfect, especially on days like this, but it’s working well enough. It won’t be that much longer, either, before Emma gets over her daycare hesitance and they enroll the girls with Ashley so that Emma can get back to work full-time.

(Mostly, even if this is hard, Emma is just glad her dad’s weird twin gene hasn’t shown up in her little family yet. Some days, it feels like they’re barely keeping their heads above water with one infant and a toddler; Emma can’t imagine juggling another baby in that mix.)

Emma doesn’t doubt that Daisy would be noisy today regardless, just by nature, but the fact that the poor thing is teething doesn’t help matters. Her heart breaks just a little more with every whimper her daughter vocalizes, but she doesn’t know what else she can do. They’ve tried frozen teething rings and numbing cream and everything else they can think of, to no avail. Hell, Emma had tried relieving some of the pain with magic - though she’s not really convinced it worked. She’s a little too tired to be confident in her powers. Every time they try and lay Daisy down for a nap or just some real regular nighttime sleep, she cries even harder until one of them picks her back up. Emma’s spent the last two nights dozing in the rocking chair, and it’s… not great.

“I know, baby, I know it hurts, I’m sorry,” she croons as she bounces her daughter in her arms. Any hopes Emma might have had for an actual naptime today are quickly being dashed in a tidal wave of wails and tears.

Charlie still tries to observe everything her mother is doing, the way she’s so prone to, but her expression is decidedly unimpressed. “Baby _loud_,” she tells Emma as emphatically as a three year old can manage. She’s proven to be a fine enough big sister - certainly gentle and generally loving, which is probably the best Killian and Emma could have hoped for - but unimpressed is really the best way to describe her feelings towards her baby sister. The novelty of wanting to hold the baby and play with the baby and give the baby gifts has long since worn off. Charlie’s stopped even trying to identify if Daisy is feeling sad or mad or whatever else like she did at the beginning - it’s just _baby _**_loud_** now. Which, truthfully, is probably the best description anyways. 

“Yes she is, Bean, thank you for letting me know.” Charlie still isn’t much of a talker, so Emma and Killian both try to acknowledge and encourage her whenever she  _ does _ say something. It’s obviously an inclination thing, not an ability issue - their older daughter can get going with the best of them if she’s excited or angry, insistently talking as loud as she can so that everyone can hear. “Do you need something?”

Charlie seems to think about it for a moment. She gets this cute little wrinkle in her forehead whenever she does - not that Emma’s watching in this particular moment, as Daisy lets out another ear-splitting cry. “No,” the toddler finally responds.

“Ok. You’re just keeping me company?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, that sounds nice. Thank you, sweetheart.”

Charlie just watches her bounce back and forth all over the room for a little bit, desperately pacing and humming and rocking and attempting anything short of actually knocking Daisy out with magic to get her to sleep. She’s a terrible mother for even considering that, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Or something.

She’s  _ so _ tired, damn it.

Her Charlie girl is a smart one, though, and probably a lot better rested than anyone else in the house. After alternating for several minutes between playing with her stuffed fish and watching Emma’s neverending movements around the green-painted nursery, Charlie pipes up again. “We go to Golly?” Killian’s daughter has always been enamored of his ship, even if she has a little trouble pronouncing the J in Jolly sometimes. It’s pretty adorable regardless. 

Still, they’re not really in any position to make a trip to the harbor today. Emma’s an exhausted mess and showering has been… iffy at best the last couple of days. Honestly, she’s looking forward to going back to work just for the excuse to force herself into the shower and then out into the world. Right now, taking two young kids down to the docks seems an almost insurmountable obstacle without any compelling reason to force her to do it. 

“Oh, no, honey, I’m sorry, not today. Maybe you and Papa can go this weekend.” Emma tries to sound as apologetic about it as possible - Charlie is generally a pretty even-keeled kid, but one of the things that can really get her upset is being told that she can’t go on the Jolly. Absolutely her father’s daughter, honestly.

Instead of immediately dissolving into hysterics, thankfully, Charlie narrows her eyes in that stubborn way Emma knows she got from her. “Golly rocks.”

At first, Emma just thinks that Charlie has picked up some lingo from Henry. It sounds like something he’d say excitedly. It hits her though, as she notices the way she’s absentmindedly swaying back and forth with Daisy on her shoulder. Maybe her older daughter meant that much more literally. It’s not a bad idea, actually - the ship’s gentle rocking on the waves always put Charlie to sleep when she was a baby, it’d probably do the same for Daisy. If nothing else, it’s worth a shot; everything she’s trying here clearly isn’t working.

“You know what? Yeah, that’s right. Let’s go to the Jolly,” Emma agrees. “Why don’t you go get some shoes while I get Daisy’s stuff together. Do you want to make a note to leave for Papa?” If this goes well, they hopefully won’t be back by the time Killian gets home from the station; if it goes poorly, well, they can take the note off the door when they get home.

Charlie’s sweet face lights up at the prospect. “Yeah!” she exclaims before tearing out of the nursery, presumably for paper and markers. She’s proving to be quite the little artist. At three, her masterpieces still aren’t much more than scribbles, but she executes those efforts with a single-minded focus and attention to details only she can see. Maybe she’ll be an artist one day, or an architect, or something else that would let her draw for a living. 

Emma couldn’t tell anyone later how long it takes for her to change into something less ‘hasn’t left the house in three days’ and get all the various baby paraphernalia together. There’s a certain point of tired where mindless tasks blur together into a period of time that might have been five minutes and might have been thirty. All she knows is that Charlie is just finishing up her picture on the living room coffee table when she hauls the baby and her backpack downstairs. 

“Looks great, kiddo,” she makes sure to smile, running her fingers through that soft dark hair. Emma keeps expecting that eventually it’ll lose that lovely baby softness, but for now, the dark chocolate strands are still that perfect fluffy smoothness. Then again, she still loves playing with Killian’s hair, and their daughter has definitely inherited her father’s locks, so maybe she won’t grow out of it after all. Emma should have figured, though, that Charlie would bypass getting her shoes in order to draw her picture. “Let’s go get your boots and we can put this on the door.”

The stroller lives on the front porch these days, as if to announce to everyone passing by that yes, they do have kids and yes, they are kind of overwhelmed and letting things fall into a messy disaster, thanks for noticing. The real plus is that Emma can keep an eye on both girls at once while she helps Charlie with her shoes - little boots that look just like her Papa’s. Not that Emma can’t hear the snuffles and whimpers from this short distance. At least for now, Emma knows Daisy will stay put - it’s inevitable that once that little blonde baby is mobile and figures out the buckles, she’ll be an absolute terror no one will be able to keep safely contained. 

Once all the drawn-out rituals of leaving the house with kids are fulfilled - God, does she ever yearn for the day when she could just grab the keys and leave - Emma takes a last moment to dig out a crayon from the backpack that holds anything either the baby or the toddler might need and scrawl a note at the corner of Charlie’s masterpiece.  _ Gone to Jolly - meet at docks _ . With one more quick flick of her hand, the note is magically tacked to the door for Killian to find when he gets home (if they don’t make it back first).

One of the many advantages of this house is that the harbor is already visible at the end of the street, just a short walk away. Technically, Emma could probably just poof the three of them onto the ship, but she’s always been a little nervous about doing that when her kids are still so little and squirmy and possibly not great about keeping a hold of her hand - not to mention the sheer amount of stuff she has to carry. It’s too many things to worry about on too little sleep. It’s barely a five minute walk anyways, and it’s a good opportunity for Charlie to get some of her energy out. It gives Emma a chance to get out of the house and actually see the light of day, too. Win-win-win, really.

Still, five minutes is a long time when you’re hauling a crammed backpack and dealing with a fussy baby and a toddler who’s finally figured out (at the exact  _ wrong  _ time) that she can walk further than three feet away from Mom and Dad without dying a dramatic and bloody death and is trying to exercise that right by skipping  _ way _ further down the sidewalk than she should. For now she’s just trying to go pick dandelions or say hello to one of the neighbors’ dogs, but that won’t always be the case, and on a day where Emma’s bordering on too tired and frazzled to function… as much as she wants to encourage her daughter’s independence, it’s easier to keep her close. Even if it means Charlie pouts. Just another day in paradise or something. 

It’s an indescribable relief to set foot on the boardwalk, and even better to spot Captain Nemo waving from the docks. Killian’s relationship with his… whatever Nemo is (half-brother’s adoptive father is a mouthful, and somehow doesn’t seem to fully encompass the relationship Killian is slowly starting to foster on his own) often is hesitant, but Emma has always gotten on with the jovial submarine captain, and he obviously adores the girls and Henry. Somehow, in the time since he and the Nautilus have first arrived in Storybrooke, he’s become a beloved grandfather figure in the family. Hell, Charlie’s favorite stuffed animal is a soft clownfish that Nemo bought her as a baby - he’s still the only person in this crazy town who was genuinely delighted by their cartoon counterpart.

“There’s my favorite ladies!” he calls in his booming voice, striding up the floating plastic docks in a way that somehow seems natural, despite how anachronistic he and his ship look against the surroundings. Though many of the people from the Land of Untold Stories have fully adapted to Storybrooke, including modern clothing, Nemo still insists on his uniform in all but the most informal of situations. 

Before Emma can protest, Charlie has already taken off down the boardwalk with her fish to intercept her Baba Nemo. The submarine captain is good about pretending to be bowled over when the toddler crashes into his legs for a hug, much to her delight. As long as she’s in the care of another adult, Emma can’t find the energy to reprimand her for dashing off again. “Hey, Nemo,” she responds wearily. “How goes it?”

“Well, as always. Liam and I are just performing some maintenance on the old girl.” Nemo does look particularly jovial today, though Emma personally suspects it has nothing to do with his submarine. Rumor has it that he’s been seeing another captain recently, a flamboyant lightning collector who’d only started docking in town in the last year. Something about rekindling a past relationship. Emma’s mostly just happy to see such a generous and affectionate man so happy in a new way. “You though, my dear, look decidedly…”

“Exhausted? Drowning? Unshowered?”

“Overwhelmed,” Nemo concludes diplomatically. 

“That’s just the polite way of saying all of those things.”

“Ah, perhaps, but it’s more succinct, isn’t it? Now, what brings you to the shores of the sea today?” Nemo asks, crouching to make faces at Daisy. It’s a nice distraction for a moment, but then she’s right back to snuffling again and trying to gnaw at a frozen teething ring that must have melted in the summer heat already. “Is someone upset?”

“Someone’s teething, and I’m honestly getting a bit desperate for sleep. Naptime hasn’t exactly happened. Charlie suggested that we come down to the Jolly, and I’m about willing to try anything at this point,” Emma explains. 

“There is something calming about the movement of the waves, isn’t there?” Nemo comments mildly. “Now, why don’t you give me that backpack,” he gestures with a waving motion, “and I’ll take young Charlotte here, and we can get the three of you settled on the Jolly.”

It’s not a question, or a suggestion, or anything remotely up for debate. Nemo just… takes charge, with a gentle but confident authority that feels like someone’s finally letting her slacken the reins on a runaway horse.

(Killian would probably appreciate that analogy. Emma’s a little too exhausted to think about it any further.)

It’s nice to have that help, and it’s weirdly nice to be ushered into the captain’s cabin like an overgrown child. Emma wouldn’t say the seas are rough by any stretch of the word, but there’s an obvious sway underneath their feet accompanied by the sound of waves lapping at the hull. It’s all very rhythmic and soothing, and even if she didn’t think it possible, Emma feels exhaustion somehow settle even further into her bones. At least it seems to be quieting Daisy a bit, too.

Nemo notices these things. Of course he notices; at this point, Emma shouldn’t expect anything else. “Now, I will leave you and wee Daisy down here,” he commands, a benevolent dictator on lands not his own, “and Charlotte and I will be on the deck waiting for Killian. Perhaps you’ll both be able to get some sleep.”

“Thanks, Nemo,” she smiles, bouncing the miraculously quieting baby. “I hope so too.”

“I steer, Baba?” she faintly hears Charlie ask as Nemo leads her back out into the corridor. Emma has no doubt he’ll cave; he’s an absolute sucker for anything she asks. 

_ Maybe we’ll both finally get some sleep _ , Emma thinks as she sinks onto the thin mattress padding the ancient bunk. In the past, she’s needled at Killian to let her fix the stupid thing, make it larger and thicker and softer and generally better, but it doesn’t seem so bad today. Daisy has managed to slip into the long-awaited nap - one of those situations straight from awake and unhappy to out like a light. 

Emma should put her down in the collapsible crib in the corner, but she’s got a terrible feeling that will jinx it all - that the moment she lays the baby down, Daisy will just wake right back up again. And really, the bed is feeling pretty comfortable. She could just close her eyes for a few minutes, propped up at the head of the bed with the baby on her chest…

——— 

It had been a good day, Killian reflects, all things considered. The people of Storybrooke had been good enough not to completely descend into madness today, which was more consideration than they usually afforded. He did end up having to intervene in one argument between dwarves first thing in the morning - something about Mr. Clark stealing Leroy’s bacon - but that’d been the worst of it. 

(Fitz had also been kind enough not to tease him when the deputy had returned to the station after patrols, only to find Killian dozing off over the reports he was supposedly filing. It had not been his finest moment.)

He’d been looking forward to coming home and seeing his girls - even if a certain little one won’t sleep through the night and is exhausting her poor Mama and Papa - so it’d been something of a surprise to find their note taped to the door. It’s certainly unusual for them to make a trip without him, but Killian has never been one to complain about an excuse to spend the evening on his ship. Carefully, he tucks the drawing - a lovely rendition by his Charlie girl of all of them and his ship, if he’s interpreting the scribbles correctly - into his pocket for protection. It’ll look charming framed on his desk in the harbormaster’s office.

It’s all around a day for surprises, though, as when he arrives at the Jolly Roger, Emma and the wee lasses are nowhere in sight. Instead, Captain Nemo is waiting on deck, reading in one of the folding beach chairs Emma keeps in one of the cabins below. It’s an odd sight, to be sure - the electric green chair contrasted against the older man’s formal navy-colored uniform. The only thing that would make this tableau look even more unusual would be a tropical drink with a tiny umbrella. Hell, even one of those gods-forsaken  _ speedo _ contraptions Emma showed him would look more natural here. 

“Killian!” he calls, waving a hand in greeting. Killian still feels somewhat awkward around the other man after all they’ve been through - and considering that includes an accidental stabbing, that’s warranted, in his humble opinion - but Nemo doesn’t seem to be hung up on it in the same way.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Nemo,” he replies cautiously. He manages to make it friendly, of course - even at his most tired, Killian has never lost his manners - but a man is allowed to be hesitant about such a welcome.

“You’re looking for your lovely wife and daughters, I assume,” the submarine captain continues with a smile. “They’re below in the captain’s quarters. I offered to entertain young Charlotte while Emma settled wee Daisy, but when I took Charlotte back down once she got tired, both mother and daughter were sound asleep. I thought I’d keep watch until you arrived.”

It’s a touching gesture - Killian isn’t sure why he expected anything less of a man who’s been nothing but generous since he’d made Storybrooke his home. “Thank you, Nemo.” It’s not enough, but it’s a start.

“Don’t mention it,” the other man excuses with a wave and a smile. “Go see your family. You look like you could use a nap yourself - I can stay a while longer. Now go, shoo!”

It’s a touching scene that greets Killian when he enters his cabin: Emma, propped in a half-reclining position with her arms secured around Daisy on her chest, and Charlie curled into her side, head resting on Emma’s stomach and dark hair strewn every which way. Killian creeps across the room as quietly as he can, avoiding the squeaky planks with a habit born of hundreds of years to reach them, finally able to brush some of Charlie’s dark hair out of her face and carefully extricate Daisy from Emma’s arms.

It’s not quite careful enough, though; Emma’s arms tighten instinctively and her eyes flutter open as Killian starts to lift the baby away.

“Shhh, go back to sleep. I’m just going to put the baby in her crib,” he whispers. Emma hums contentedly in response, shuffling a little further down the bunk to get more comfortable. Charlotte doesn’t even stir as her mother shifts beneath her; she sleeps like a rock these days, even challenging teenaged Henry. By some miracle from the gods themselves, Daisy doesn’t wake either as he lays her down in the pop-up crib they’ve kept in the cabin since Charlie was born. A miracle it may be, but Killian isn’t nearly stupid enough to question it. 

With everyone settled more comfortably, Killian toes off his own boots, leaves his hook on the bookshelf, and crawls onto the bunk behind Charlie so that she’s cocooned between her parents and Killian can rest his stump across the both of them. 

“Did you have a good day?” Emma mumbles, obviously still half-asleep.

Carefully, Killian leans across to press a kiss to her cheek without disturbing the toddler between them. “Better now that I’m with you.”

And somehow, miraculously, with the waves chattering in the background and gently rocking the Jolly, their little family finds sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you found it to be just as cute as I do.
> 
> Also posted on tumblr - I'm @shireness-says. Come say hi.
> 
> I've got a bunch more ideas for this 'verse, but if you have some, I'd love to hear them too. Just shoot me a message on tumblr.
> 
> Let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
